The Return from Space Jail
by hylianmusicianandwriter
Summary: Rick finally breaks free of the clutches of the Federation, a whole year after the disastrous wedding. Oneshot.


**A/N: Woohoo, here's another little fanfic oneshot! I really enjoy writing these; it's a good way to spend my time while I wait for season 3. Whoo-wee, it feels so far away :(**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoy! I looooove to read your comments- it helps keep me motivated so I can keep putting out these little stories for you guys!**

 **Peace among worlds!**

One year.

It had been one whole year since _he_ left.

It had been one whole year, filled with frustration, pain, and a whole lot of alcohol.

Morty was in his grandfather's garage, sitting groggily at the workbench. Half-finished inventions lay strew across the dimly-lit garage, either not touched or barely moved since Rick had left. Morty rested his head on his arm as he lightly shook the half-empty beer bottle in his other hand, his eyes watching the swirling, colorful contents of the liquor. Sure, he had taken it from Rick's private storage- Morty was certain that Rick had obtained the liquor from some other star system- but, it's not like Rick would be back anytime soon to notice its absence.

As Morty stared at the half-empty bottle, his grandfather's voice rose to the front of his mind:

"Listen here, M-EUGh-orty; some idiots say to look at the glass half full, while other idiots say to look at it half empty. Y-y-you know wh-EUGH-at I say? I say that the glass is full of piss, so it doesn't matter either way!"

Morty snorted, bitter bile rising in his throat.

 _Yeah, it doesn't matter._

!

Rick Sanchez had broken free of the clutches of the Federation.

He was free from jail.

He was free from the prison brawls, from the borderline illegal methods the Federation had used to interrogate him to try and extract information about the Council of Ricks (which, of course, he never gave away), and from the terrible food and sobriety.

He was f*cking _free._

After one whole year, he had found his opportunity to escape and jumped on it. After an intense battle with the Gromflomite guards, he managed to jack his own ship (which the Federation had confiscated at the wedding, all those months ago) and escape.

Now, he sat in the drivers' seat, bruised and bloodied, but free.

He had succeeded in shaking the Gromflomites off his tail, and was now flying home. He missed this freedom, of the open universe; he glanced around, drinking in the vastness of space. He enjoyed the stars, which looked like little pinpricks of light to him. Finally, after a few hours of travelling, he saw the pale blue dot which he had come to call home.

For the first time in a year, Rick cracked a smile.

!

The Smiths' house was approaching fast; the ship landed less-than-gracefully on the front lawn, leaving a dent in the normally perfectly manicured grass. A small amount of smoke billowed from the landing.

Rick threw his door open, stumbling out. He blinked and looked around; it seemed to be around 7pm. He took in a deep breath of Earth air, enjoying the stinging sensation it sent down his lungs. The Federation prison air was mixed with low dosage of a chemical to keep the prisoners slightly groggy.

This was the most alive Rick had felt in a year.

He went up to the front door before hesitating for a moment. Was he nervous? No; was he worried about how they would react? How Morty would react?

No.

So why was he hesitating?

He took a deep breath and turned the doorknob, crossing the threshold into the house.

It was dark.

"Hello? Anyone here?" Rick said loudly into the darkness. He could make out the outlines of the furniture in the living room and kitchen; nothing had really changed.

He walked in further. "Morty? Summer? Beth?" Rick looked around, flicking on a light. It seemed like no one was home.

Well, wasn't his timing shitty. He was hoping they would all be home, so he could make his grand entrance.

And get some good food as well.

Rick sighed, letting out a slight groan of frustration. He decided to go into the garage and see if they had done anything with his inventions. If they had gotten rid of any of his stuff, he was going to be pissed.

Rick pushed open the door to the garage, and was hit by the strong smell of liquor. _His_ liquor, to be exact. The liquor he had obtained in another star system, years and years ago.

Inside the garage, Rick saw the figure of a kid- Morty- slumped at his workbench, a bottle of alcohol in his hand. Rick narrowed his eyes in mock accusation and leaned against the doorway, arms crossed.

He spoke. "Morty, you little turd- you're using up all my best liquor! I-I-I had to go aaaalll the way to the Flopi System to get it, a-a-and now you're just wasting it!"

Morty pulled his head up and turned around, recognition and disbelief dawning on him. He recognized that gruff voice anywhere.

"R-R-Rick…?!" In an instant, Morty was up on his feet, tearing across the short expanse between him and his grandfather before halting right before Rick.

Morty had grown over the past year, Rick noticed. He now came up to his grandfather's neck, instead of just below his shoulders. Morty stared at Rick, unable to believe his eyes.

 _I must be so drunk right now,_ Morty thought.

Rick stared back, arms still crossed, an eyebrow cocked. "W-w-what are you staring at, kid? I mean, I was only gone for a year-"

 _WHAM!_

Pain flashed across Rick's face; he doubled over, grabbing his nose. "God dammit, Morty! What the f*ck was that for?! And where the hell did _you_ learn to hit?! Ow, shit!" He pinched his nose, feeling the warm sensation of blood.

Yup, broken.

"That's for leaving us, for a _whole year!_ Man, Rick, f*ck you for leaving us! F-f-for leaving me! You know how shit our lives have been since you left?!" Morty raged. He was drunk, but not that drunk. He could still think clearly enough to be angry at his grandfather. "Th-th-they have been so shitty! Summer's been rebelling against the Federation, Mom's been getting drunk off her ass, and Dad-" Morty clenched his teeth. "Don't even get me started on Dad." Morty breathed in deeply and looked away, trying to stop himself from shaking. "A-a-and me; everything's been so shitty, Rick."

Rick stared at Morty, one hand over his nose. He didn't say anything. A slight pang of guilt curled at Rick's insides; man, what he would give to not be sober right now.

Morty looked back up at Rick, allowing himself time to breathe. He searched Rick's face, finally seeing how haggard and gaunt it was. His grandfather had a few healing cuts here and there, a slice above his left eye, and- was that a scar on his cheek? His hair was more wild than usual, and he seemed to have a few more wrinkles than the last time Morty saw him a year ago. Rick was still dressed in the prison garb; an orange jumpsuit with a nameplate sewn on it, the words "RICK SANCHEZ" embroidered there.

He suddenly realized what Rick had been through just to get home.

Without a second's hesitation, Morty wrapped his arms around Rick's shoulders.

Rick jolted slightly, surprised by this sudden turn. _Morty_ was hugging _him_? But, in a weird sense- it felt good to be hugged. He relaxed slightly and, in a move that would normally be so uncharacteristic, he hugged his grandson back.

"Thanks for coming home."

They released each other after a moment, but Rick let his hands rest on Morty's shoulders as he knelt to his level. "L-l-listen, Morty- I've been sober for the past twelve months, so how about I go grab my flask and we can sit and watch some _Ball Fondlers,_ just Rick and Morty style? I missed the last season, you know, being in ja-EUGH-il a-a-and all."

Morty smiled. His grandpa was back. "Sounds good, Rick."

!

Beth, Jerry, and Summer had gone out hours earlier to do some errands. They had invited Morty to come along, but he refused (as usual; the past year had been tough, and Morty usually just stayed in the garage, much to Jerry's dismay), so they left him home alone. Needless to say, the three were utterly shocked when they walked into the living room, which was lit by the glow of the television, to find Morty sitting on the couch next to an old man in an orange jumpsuit with wild hair.

"Dad…?" Beth dropped the groceries she was holding, causing oranges to roll out of the bag by her feet.

Rick turned around and smiled, waving his hand. A single bandage lay over his nose. "Hi, sweetie."

Morty turned around as well to look at his family. He gave them a huge smile. "L-l-look who broke out of space jail!" He gestured to his grandfather.

"Grandpa Rick!" Summer flung herself around Rick's neck, trying her best to hold back her tears. "We missed you." She released him. "How did you break out?! Wouldn't the Federation be on their way right now?"

Rick gave a cocky smirk. "Hell no. Th-th-the last place they'd exp-EUGH-ect me to go would be home. Plus," Rick added, "me and some of my inmate friends managed to destroy half of the Federation, so I expect they'll be pulling mo-EUGH-st of their idiots off this planet, since Earth is the newest and farthest from the Federation center." Rick also knew that the Federation wouldn't be able to track him here because of Morty's brainwaves.

Morty grinned, looking at his grandfather with awe. "Jeez, Rick- that's pretty amazing!"

Rick turned his attention back to the television, smirking.

"Yeah, well, I _am_ pretty amazing."


End file.
